


venatio

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Elsword (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood and Violence, Demon Esper, Demon hunters Arme and Apos, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 17:10:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16330166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: "I'm so glad you're okay," Esper breathes, words so soft, so quiet they could've just been imagined. But they weren't."You got speared like a meat skewer," Lusa huffs back, halfway to chuckling. Esper is intact, no trace of the incident left on his skin."You made me drink."





	venatio

**Author's Note:**

> tap dances in  
> enjoy this dumb au because i sure as hell did

The scent of a demon is so pungent in the air that it's right on that edge of getting him sick. Arme's lips curl into a thin frown, doing his best to keep the bile from forcing its way up his throat.

"We must be close," Apostasia quips, ever the observant.

He's looking around with those blank eyes of his, no inch of his face betraying what he's thinking, feeling. Not that that's out of the ordinary with him, but it almost makes Arme self-conscious about how badly the scent is affecting him.

Almost.

"Maybe you're just smelling yourself," he says, soldiering his way through the thick trees. They've been in this forest for days now, tracing the scent and clues left of it all over the place.

Apostasia doesn't grace him with an answer. Not sure what Arme had expected -- he is, after all, not affected by provocation easily. He's so unlike Erbluhen, who all but bears his heart on the sleeve.

Maybe it's the demon blood pumping in his veins making him like this. Arme can hazily remember the past, when he'd been different, even the time when he'd been scared of the blood overtaking him. Not anymore; but even Arme has to admit, however begrudgingly, that it makes their chases a little easier to have someone with the abilities similar to their preys.

The stifling silence stretches until they reach a clearing, a quaint place with a river flowing through it. The dark oaks give way to shorter underbushes, scattered along the edge of the flowing water, grass trampled in obvious paths by the animals frequenting the spot.

And it's there that the scent intensifies to an almost unbearable level.

Their eyes flick automatically to the source. And they're both somehow surprised to find a figure leaned by the river bank, slumped and washing lengths of animal hide like it was the most natural thing.

Their white hair is short and wet, sticking to their neck and shining in the light from overhead. And they're completely steeped in that awful, awful smell.

Arme's hand is gripping a glowing blade in the matter of microseconds, but the projection comes alive with a crackle. And by the time he lunges himself at the figure, they've whipped around, already on their feet and parrying his attack with a small knife gripped in one hand.

Their speed in commendable, but Arme doesn't have the time for such trivial things. The person's blade slides against his and they're jumping out of the way when they disconnect.

It's a man, barely shorter than Arme or Apostasia themselves, broad shoulders squared for a fight as he exchanges the knife to the other hand. His knees bent, his posture reads ready for a fight.

"Who're you?" he growls out, magenta eyes narrowing in suspicion as he looks between them. "Demon hunters…" he tacks on when he sees Arme's uniform, the crisp white of his cloak. Even if Apostasia isn't dressed in anything similar, mostly blending in with the treeline, there's no mistake they're together.

Arme lunges again, an arc of his blade swooping down in a violent slash, but the man dodges to the side, tucking into a roll with an arm braced against the ground.

"Stay still and let yourself get purified, you monster," Arme hisses, holding a hand out and calling forth spears from the ground. With shattering noises they come up, break the soil and follow after the man as he stays just a hair's breadth ahead of them.

"In your dreams!" the man calls, throwing the small blade in Arme's direction. It's embarrassingly easy to swat it away with just a flick of his sword.

"Follow up," Apostasia announces. He's standing to the side, letting Arme quarrel it out like usual. It's not often he offers any kind of advice, so Arme doesn't catch on fast enough.

The man comes right after the knife, punching Arme square in the jaw and sending him tumbling back a few steps. The muscles in his jaw hurt when he grits his teeth, but he thrusts the sword forward again, half blindly, and the man narrowly avoids behind speared on it.

Instead Arme just nicks his side, a large chunk of his top falling down in tatters and blood soaking the rest of the purple cloth from the gash leftover.

The man hisses in pain, eyes blazing with anger as he holds onto the injury. Arme hadn't seen such a look of utter hatred many times, but the fire within this man's eyes is unmistakable. It's a look he sometimes sends Apostasia himself.

"Like hell I'll let ya!"

The man springs forward to deliver another punch, and another, and another, knuckles bleeding as they hit the blunt edge of Arme's glowing weapon over and over.

Then there's a foot surging forward, hooking around one of Arme's ankles and pulling, tripping him and sending them both toppling to the ground with a loud thud. Arme's projection falls from his fingers, flickering out of existence a few feet away from them.

Apostasia looks ready to finally join the scuffle, arms previously folded over his chest falling to his sides, but Arme stops him with a single glare, flipping the man over and holding him down with an arm against his throat, calling forth another projection to replace his previous sword.

"Lusa!" comes a shout from within the forest, loud and questioning. "Lusa, what's the hold u--"

A slighter man comes from between two thick trees, treading the undergrowth with caution due to the long yukata he's clad in.

He stops with a hand against the rough bark of one, looking over the scene with unbidden surprise. And then anger, when his eyes fall to the ground, to Arme pinning down the man with a sword in his hand.

Eyes that are dark as the night, narrowed into a glare that could freeze hell over twice.

"Get away from Lusa," he says, chest rising with the deep inhale he takes. "Get away from him!"

The smell seeped into the place increases exponentially, Arme's breath getting stuck in his throat before he's pushed off the man with force greater than he could've expected. Whatever had slammed into him was nothing but a blur, but when he regains his composure, he can see it had been the newcomer, now standing between him and the other man who's nursing his throat now, small coughs leaving his lips.

The new man -- no. When Arme looks closer he can clearly see this being had been the real source of the stench, demonic power covering him so thickly it's almost palpable as he moves. This demon had been their target.

And he's pissed.

Arme braces a foot back to jump forward and stab the demon to ribbons, but the other is faster, on him in the matter of a blink, clawed hands grabbing his sword and shattering it into glimmering pieces. They're face to face now, the demon's sharp teeth bared in a snarl.

"How dare you!" it cries, lunging at Arme and clawing its way up his torso, reducing his uniform to tatters. Arme pushes back, gripping another projected weapon tightly. He'd dreamt of cutting this beast down for days, and by the Goddess' name, he's going to do it.

He swings, catching the demon's outstretched arm and digging straight into it. The blood that pours out is a vile black, seeping into the thing's yukata and spattering the ground. The roar it lets out is animalistic at best, guttural and loud.

Arme falls back, breathing hard as he looks the creature over where it stands, slumped back and holding onto its gash. It takes only a second to call forth the spears again, hitting the creature from everywhich side, piercing into its skin and impaling it where it stands.

Apostasia sighs at the display, averting his eyes to look at the man half-sitting, half-laying on the ground. His face is the epitome of fear, eyes wide as they look at his… Apostasia doesn't know what they were, he'd probably just been the demon's toy.

"Run," the man grits out, voice choked as he pushes himself up to his feet, swaying a little and favoring his right side.

Apostasia would laugh at that simple command, but when he looks over at the demon again, sees it pulling out Arme's spears one by one out of itself, he feels the urge to tell Arme the very same thing.

His breath catches in his throat, though, the pressure of demonic power surrounding them making his esophagus tight.

The demon howls as it pulls out the last spear, flicking blood everywhere as it throws the weapon aside like a toy. It floats up, air cracking around it like glass. Purple seeps from its form, filling the cracks like a spiderweb in midair.

And when it lifts its arms, Apostasia knows it's too late to warm Arme of anything.

Energy forms around the demon, condensing itself into balls that only hover for a moment before raining down upon Arme, a shower of searing hot energy that hits Arme like a meteorite, or a whole bunch of them.

The sleeves of his uniform get singed off as he tries guarding, not even his projected shield enough to stop the barrage of attacks raining upon him.

"Esper, stop it!"

Apostasia flashes to Arme's side, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling him out of the range. But there isn't any range. The meteorites just follow him like the demon's eyes do, no matter where he dodges. One hits him in his exposed side, but he's too slow with Arme's dead weight in his arms.

The man rushes up to the demon, desperately pulling it back down to the ground. Apostasia can catch him saying nonsense to it, 'stop it's and 'thats enough's until the space around it reforms itself and the purple fades back into the usual green of the forest.

The man slings the now limp demon over his shoulder with nary a flinch, and turns to look at him with furrowed brows. Apostasia isn't sure what he expects him to do, but it isn't shaking his head and disappearing into the trees, lugging around a demon who had just almost killed Arme like nothing.

Apostasia looks down to the fallen warrior slumping in his lap and calls forth for Henir. They've severely underestimated this demon.

* * *

Lusa pants as he runs, feet dragging over fallen branches and exposed roots. He adjusts his hold on Esper to check up on him, one hand brushing aside his fringe. He almost looks like he's just sleeping, but he's so pale…

The hunter had gotten him like a Swiss fucking cheese! Goddamn it!

He can't tell if they're being followed, but he can't keep going with a clear conscience. He stops by a large tree, gently propping Esper's back against it.

One hand against his chest tells him Esper's heart is doing its best to keep him alive, but it's too quiet even despite his own loud breathing.

"Es," he breathes, leaning his forehead against Esper's as he grits his teeth, fighting the onslaught of tears prickling the corners of his eyes. "Don't you dare die. Don't you _dare_ …!"

He rolls up one of his sleeves, lamenting the dirtied fabric for only a moment before he's forcing Esper's jaw open and pushing his face against the pale flesh. He pushes his jaw closed and winces as Esper's sharp teeth puncture his skin.

He's about to panic when nothing happens for long, too long seconds, but eventually Esper starts drinking, tongue lapping at the wounds on instinct, throat working as he swallows the blood given to him.

Lusa heaves a sigh of relief, bracing his empty hand against the tree. He isn't sure how long passes. It could be minutes, it could be an hour, but his vision blanks into black here and there, and Esper's wounds close themselves little by little.

He's dizzy by the time Esper's eyes crack open, a haze clouding the usual pink irises. Esper looks up at him, and then his eyes fall down to the arm held by his mouth. He's pushing Lusa away like he'd been burned.

"Lusa!" he cries, arms holding onto his shoulders before he could even think about falling backwards. He blinks tiredly, lack of blood affecting him more than usual. It's to be expected, coupled with the untended injury on his side.

"You idiot…" Esper mutters, brushing the back of his fingers over Lusa's cheek, looking at him like he'd just done something dumb. Or maybe like he'd put the stars onto the night sky, like Esper usually does. He isn't sure.

Esper has them reversed, extremely gentle as he lays Lusa back by the tree, slinging his bag off his shoulder. He digs in it as Lusa watches impassively, barely keeping his eyes open. He's cold, now that Esper isn't touching him. He shivers, feeling all that his previous adrenaline let him overlook, every muscle that screams in exertion, every bolt of pain rushing outwards from his side.

He groans.

Esper's eyes flick to him with concern lacing his eyebrows together, reaching out to keep him still as he shudders.

"How are you feeling?" Esper asks, and Lusa, were he of his usual mind, would laugh at that.

_Like shit_ , he would say.

Esper seems to understand even without him saying anything, and something softens in his expression.

"I'll patch you up, okay? Don't move." A gentle command, like the fingers that help pull his shirt off, the soaked, stained garment ending up on the ground nearby.

Esper winces himself when Lusa's injury comes to view, nasty and deep. He drops down to Lusa's stomach and hovers just above it, looking up with apology on his lips.

"I'll clean you up," he says, and Lusa finds himself nodding, muscles clenching as Esper's tongue touches the edge of the cut, carefully licking all the half-dried blood off until only ivory skin is left. He relaxes into the ministrations, but they're over a little too quick for his liking.

Then Esper pulls off and takes a roll of bandages from his pack, guiding Lusa forward so he can start wrapping them around the gash, apologizing every single time Lusa hisses or winces.

When that is done as well, Esper moves to his arm and wraps the bite marks as well, holding the arm close even when finished.

"I'm so sorry," he repeats; Lusa had lost track of how many times he'd said that today.

His free hand, trembling, reaches out and burrows in Esper's hair, caressing and pulling him closer until he can press a kiss to his forehead.

"We're fine," he says, quietly. "We'll be fine."

"Yeah," Esper echoes, hugging the arm he's still holding close to his chest. "I'll get us home, okay? You need to rest. I'll... I won't let this happen again."

Lusa scoffs at the promise. He doesn't want Esper to blame himself. He'd been worse off than Lusa is, honestly, and it'll only take a few days tops for him to get healed.

He doesn't voice any of it, instead lets Esper pick him up, presses himself close to his chest as he's held there.

"Don't use your power carelessly again," he says, begs, almost. "You know it takes too much of a toll on you..."

Esper bites at his bottom lip, holding Lusa just a little tighter. "I won't let them hurt you again," he tells Lusa instead, and the man just sighs.

"I know you won't."

He's aware of Esper grabbing his bag and then of nothing more, finally letting himself succumb to the fatigue.

* * *

Esper is slow in his trek back to the cottage, making sure he doesn't jostle Lusa at all. He knows the forest like the back of his hand, knows just which path to take not to deal with obstacles or larger animals that could catch onto the scent of blood.

Lusa…

He's sleeping in Esper's arms like nothing had happened, a peaceful expression etched into his features like he's having the most pleasant of dreams right now. Esper's heart pangs when he sees it and he makes extra sure he isn't being followed.

Every rabbit at the edge of his vision is treated like a threat. He can't -- he _won't_ \-- allow Lusa to be hurt again.

The hunters are after him, and him dragging Lusa into a scuffle like that is just… unfair. He'd already robbed Lusa of so much, a normal life he could've been leading had they not met all those years ago.

"You're a demon, aren't you?" Lusa had said when seeing him the first time, words etched so deep in his memory it's like he can hear him saying them now.

He'd been a kid back then, face round and hair cut much less choppily than it is now. He's found Esper at the edge of the village, huddling in a bush after being pelted with stones by other kids.

'Demon, demon!!' they'd yelled at him when he'd tried playing with them, and he thought Lusa wouldn't be any different. Instead the boy sat down next to him and asked him, "Do you really drink blood?" in a tone more curious than anything.

Esper had nodded stiffly, shoulders pulled back and ready to be made fun of.

"Would drinking my blood make you hurt less?" Lusa asked, offering his arm without a beat of hesitation.

Lusa's blood had tasted better than anything Esper had put in his mouth before, or even after. He drank and drank until Lusa pulled his arm away, swaying on the balls of his feet, and Esper had helped him get back home to rest.

He'd felt better than ever before then, any injury caused by the kids long gone from his skin, and he'd been surprised when Lusa had searched him out after that.

He'd made a friend by drinking their blood. How laughable.

That had been years ago. So much had happened after that, like the whole village learning of his… condition, like his father trying to dissect him for experiments, like Lusa holding his hand and running off into the woods where they'd gotten lost for weeks on end. Like them becoming each other's right hands, like them traveling the world with nothing but two bags of necessities. Like them laughing and sharing meals they've caught themselves with traps perfected out of need, like them sharing their first kiss next to a roaring fire, like them falling in love and knowing each other better than themselves.

Sometimes he can't help wonder what Lusa's life would be like had he never met him, whether he'd find himself popular with other humans and settle down with a nice, human husband. Or maybe a wife. Everyone always seemed to like him on the occasions of them visiting villages and towns to sell game and pelts they'd caught, trading for new clothes and food they couldn't get on their own.

But Lusa always tells him he's happy with him, that he doesn't regret anything he'd done because it led them to this point. Esper had made a vow to do his very best to keep him happy, to make sure to keep Lusa safe.

And now he'd gotten hurt by hunters after Esper. They must've attacked Lusa because he looks eerily similar to him. Sometimes they poised as brothers when in a city, when Esper made his eyes a normal, human color to blend in.

It takes a lot out of him to do just that simple thing, so he only does so rarely. Lusa had told him his real eyes look more beautiful, and he'd cried then, hearing such a thing for the first time. Lusa held him close until he calmed down, wiped his dark tears without a comment.

"I'll keep you safe," he says aloud, fingers digging into the cloth of Lusa's pants. "I'll be prepared this time."

He leans down and presses a kiss to Lusa's lips.

* * *

Lusa's eyes flutter open when he feels something soft against his lips and he cranes his neck forward to chase it when it pulls away.

The first thing he sees is Esper's eyes looking down at him, crinkled at the corners with the smile curling his lips. There's not really a better way to wake up than being kissed like that.

Maybe except when the kiss lingers and doesn't pull away. He reaches up and cups the curve of Esper's neck, beckoning him back down silently.

Esper obliges, their lips meeting in another soft kiss, melding together like they were created for that sole purpose. And maybe they were. They complete each other; there's not a part of Lusa's life that doesn't include the frail-looking demon.

"I'm so glad you're okay," Esper breathes, words so soft, so quiet they could've just been imagined. But they weren't.

"You got speared like a meat skewer," Lusa huffs back, halfway to chuckling. Esper is intact, no trace of the incident left on his skin.

"You made me drink."

It sounds accusatory. Though not much different than Esper's usual tone, Lusa had long learned to spot any and all differences in his inflection.

"I don't regret it," he says, honest to a T.

Esper frowns, sits down next to him on the rickety bed. They're back in their hut, the hut they'd found abandoned in the middle of the forest and took for theirs for the time being. It's not like anyone came to throw them out, so they decided it was okay.

"You could've died from the blood loss."

"But I didn't. I'm fine," Lusa reflects, proving himself by sitting up as well. His joints pop from lack of use, but otherwise he feels good. He's sure the stab wound on his side, covered by bandages, is no longer there. "How long was I out for?"

Esper hesitates for a split second, but it isn't like him to lie to Lusa, so he says, "A whole day."

Lusa wants to make a joke, lighten the dark mood that seems to linger around Esper like a rain cloud, but as soon as he opens his mouth, Esper stands up and makes his way to the roaring fireplace. There's a cauldron set on the flames, its innards bubbling merrily.

"I made stew. You must be starving," Esper says.

"You've got no idea," Lusa grins back. Esper throws him a look over his shoulder, an amused glimmer in his eyes, only heightened by the lights flickering in them from the fire.

Esper knows a thing or two about starving.

"I caught a few rabbits." There's the hidden inflection, an unvoiced ' _I was afraid of leaving to hunt something bigger and leave you alone while hurt,_ ' but Lusa knows it's there and he knows Esper knows he knows.

It's convoluted.

"Your rabbit stew is the best," Lusa tells him instead, following so he can wrap his arms around Esper's midriff from behind, resting his chin on the demon's shoulder. He stays like that while Esper loads a large portion of the delicious smelling meal into a bowl for him. Only after Lusa whispers into his ear, "What about you?" does he grab a second bowl, filling it halfway.

It's better than nothing, better than some days when Esper doesn't touch real food with a ten foot pole.

They settle back on the bed, the mattress creaking under their combined weight, and Lusa wraps one of the warm hides they use for blankets around both of them. Esper rests against his side, bringing small spoonfuls to his mouth and chewing the meat slowly.

"I left the new hides by the river," Lusa says suddenly, when he remembers he'd been washing them. Esper snorts from besides him, his spoon clinking against the edge of the bowl as his hand goes lax.

" _That's_ what you're worried about?"

"You worked hard to catch those bears."

Esper curls up into himself, trembling the barest amount against Lusa's shoulder.

"Do you want to leave this place?" Lusa asks instead, placing his spoon down as well in favor of wrapping an arm around Esper's frame, holding him even closer. Closer, closer, it's never enough.

"God," Esper exhales, "yeah."

"We can leave after we eat, how about that?" Lusa rubs his shoulder, warming the skin under a clean yukata sleeve. It's almost absentminded, so natural he doesn't realize he does it half the time. Esper never comments on it. Lusa knows he likes it.

"I'll pack."

"We'll be okay," Lusa says, words he knows Esper needs to hear. Being a demon doesn't detract from fear, a feeling so primal it transcends mortal species. "I won't let them -- any hunters -- get you."

And Esper bursts into laughter at that. He presses a kiss to the side of Lusa's neck, holding the bowl steady in his lap lest he spill it all over the both of them. How come Lusa, the human half of them, is always the braver, the stronger of the two?

"I know you won't. And I won't let you get hurt like that ever again either."

"I know, Es. I know."

Lusa brings a spoonful up to not his own mouth, but Esper's instead.

"We'll leave when the sun sets. I hear the Eastern prairies are nice."

"I hope we find a place like this."

"I'll build you a hut myself if that's what you want."

"You're a dumbass. I love you."

There's that unspoken next part again. Lusa squeezes Esper with the arm he still has around him.

"I live for you too."

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to see more lmk cause i had sm fun writing it thanks  
> tap dances out


End file.
